Ephemerous
by xaltanat.daimaou
Summary: A young girl is left alone in the world after both her parents die. Her grief is so great that she begs Death to take her too. But it is a demon who answers her pleas.
1. Meeting Mr Death

A genuine smile is so uncommon and ephemerous. It is taken away by the slightest shadow of sorrow. But one that shines with pure love from an innocent heart is truly beautiful.

He will never forget that one smile that delivered joy over the pain of sickness and the sadness of death. He will never forget that smile that shone like a sun in his darkness, for him alone... regardless of the fact that she was a human and he is a demon.

"Don't leave me alone!" - the girl begged desperately - "Don't leave me, please!" she choked with her tears, holding her dying mother's thin, pale hand.

"I will be always with you, my dear" - the woman said in a barely audible voice, weakened by sickness - "I love y..."

She couldn't finish her last words. Her hand felt limp and suddenly cold in the daughter's grasp. The girl put her mother's hand delicately over the now still chest before falling to her knees sobbing next to the bed, burying her face in the beautifully patterned quilt.

"There, there..." - said a lady next to her and tried to hold the girl's shoulders to comfort her.

"Don't touch me!" - the girl turned abruptly to the woman in an uncontrollable rage caused by the terrible pain of her loss. She got up and ran out the door like a wild animal looking to escape.

"Poor child" – the doctor said to the woman, who was his wife and assistant - "The sole daughter of our late Anthony and our dear Candice; who just went to join her beloved husband. God keep thier souls. That child has no family left in this world."

"She's already a woman" - his wife replied - "she just turned nineteen. Besides, with her inheritance she'll be able to live comfortably until she marries... and God! with that fortune, who wouldn't want to marry her! She's one of the last nobles left in the country!"

"Have some respect, woman!" - the man scoffed - "her mother's body is still warm!"

The woman just rolled her eyes.

The girl ran along the corridors of the mansion, rushing past the the servants that looked at her in a mix of pity and surprise; and out into the huge gardens that surrounded the estate. She thought she could keep running forever, but she was unable to leave her pain behind. Tears stung her light gray eyes and a dagger seemed to be wickedly twisting in the center of her chest. She wished she could bleed until she dropped dead.

She quickly ran out of breath and a sharp pain stung her side. She was not accustomed to any physical activity, being herself of poor health. She plopped down in the grass, close to a weeping willow that swayed to the soft breeze. It was her mother's favorite tree. Her husband had made a beautifully adorned stone bench for her beneath it, so his wife could sit and read.

The girl got up, feeling her body weigh like a ton, dragged herself up to the stone bench and plopped down on it. The breeze welcomed her, playing with her long coppery tresses. It was like an angel's hand caressing her, trying to comfort her, but the pain, the void left inside and the sadness were too great.

She wailed and screamed, confident that nobody would hear her there. She could see the mansion, but it didn't feel like home anymore.

"Don't leave me alone!" - she repeated over and over, sobbing - "please! take me with you! Oh, please! Please! Kill me! If you are still around, dear Death, please be merciful and take me too!"

Something stirred in the shadows as she spoke those words, from the bottom of her broken heart.

"I'll give you anything! I'll do anything! Please be merciful, oh Death, and end my misery!" - she wailed and laid down to the side over the bench to continue crying.

The darkness stirred. The salty smell of pain and despair in the girl's tears was enticing.

"Would you give up anything?" - a soft, beckoning male voice said.

The girl stopped crying, surprised by the voice. She had heard it so close, but as she turned her head, searching her surroundings, she found nobody.

"Who is there?" - She called - "Is it you, oh dear Death?"

"I could be, if you want me to be." - the voice replied softly.

"Then, please take me in your dark wings, oh Death! I am ready to leave this world! I beg for your mercy, end my life with your scythe!"

"That would be such a waste" -the voice said with a slight intonation, like mocking pity. It came from her left, soft but clear.

The girl turned quickly and gasped as she saw a man all clad in black, his face concealed by the high collar of his coat and the shadow made by his hat's brim. He was standing right next to her, as if he had just materialized out of the thin air. She hadn't even heard his steps over the grass or the slightest rustle.

She jumped up from the bench, cowering away from whom she thought was the impersonation of death. She didn't feel brave anymore. Her hands and legs shook with fear.

The impression added to her recent physical outburst was too much for the girl and she fainted.

The man in black was unnaturally quick and caught her in his arms before she fell.

"Weaklings" - he mustered under his breath - "so easy to fall into my arms..."


	2. An important decision

When the girl opened her eyes, she was laying in her own bed, in her chamber. Nothing looked different. Apparently, all had been a dream. A maid was by her side.

"Annette, is Mother already up?" - she asked, her awareness still in a haze.

The maid made a strange grimace and didn't answer.

It hadn't been a dream. The world crashed on top of her and pain gripped her heart again. All the recent events came like flying daggers to stab her soul.

Then she remembered.

"The man in black!" - she exclaimed bolting up from her soft pillows - "Where is he? Did he leave?"

The maid seemed surprised. "He is still in the parlor, mademoiselle."

She felt afraid again. Death was waiting for her in the parlor of her own house. She just had to meet the man there and all would end. How easy and how terrifying.

"Did he... carry me back?" - the girl asked.

"Yes" - the maid replied - "It was a little strange..." - she added - "after he brought you, he insisted on waiting until you woke up. He says he has some business to talk about and will only do so with you. He has refused to say anything else."

"I'll go meet him" - the girl decided.

"Would you like one of the butlers to accompany you, mademoiselle? He's... well... he's..." - the maid was unsure.

Creepy, the girl thought to herself. That's how Death should be. Terrifying and dark.

"No, I will meet him alone." - she replied to the maid's surprise.

Back in the parlor, the man in black stood up as the girl entered. The maid closed the doors and left them alone.

The girl didn't want to appear like a scared little child and decided to see Death face to face. She looked straight at the man and was surprised to find that he wasn't so scary after all.

He had taken off his coat and hat, so she could appreciate him better than the first time. He was very tall and had a nice, athletic body. His hair was of a very dark brown, parted on the side. His face was serious, but not aggressive. Just overly calm... emotionless, she thought. He appeared to be in his thirties. Behind his narrow, frame less glasses, his eyes shone with an amber, mysterious glow. He was looking intently at her and she couldn't help blushing. He was very, very attractive and had a regal air about him.

"Are you feeling better, miss?" - he intoned calmly, softly, with a deep, beckoning voice that almost made her walk towards him.

"Yes. Thank you, monsieur, for helping me and carrying me back here. I hope I wasn't a great trouble for you." - she replied, remembering all the courtesy lessons her mother gave her. She curtsied.

"It was not a problem at all." - He replied softly, putting his right hand over his heart and bowing slightly - "You called so desperately. I couldn't do but come to your summoning."

"A-are you..." - She doubted for a moment - "are you Death?"

The man smiled, amused. He chuckled softly.

"No." - came the reply - "but I can offer my services to fulfill you of your purpose."

"My purpose?" - she asked.

"You wish not to be alone." - He said with an intent gaze that she felt forced to avoid. She looked down.

"I don't want to be alone and I don't wish to continue living." - she replied sadly - "I have nothing left in this world."

"I can make death come sooner and keep you company while you await it." - he said in his calm, soothing voice.

" Why not kill me right now?" - she asked looking back at him - "end it all in this very moment?"

"Ah, impatient human..." - he said with an annoyed air, pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle and index fingers.

"I'm sorry." - she said contritely - "I didn't mean to bother you. It's just that I don't wish to die slowly either."

"I must confess, my lady, that I enjoy people's suffering. It gives a special taste to a human soul."

"You want me to suffer?" - she asked in dismay.

"Not more than necessary" - came the calm reply. Then his tone turned more seductive - "But I can give you anything you wish for; to comfort you in your suffering..."

His voice and the way he looked at her, seemed to imply that anything, no matter how dark or unamable, would be granted. His animal gaze locked with her dove eyes for a moment.

"I will be your faithful servant" - he continued - "I will mitigate your grief, hasten your death and will never, ever leave your side..."

He made a pause, letting his last words sink in before finishing his speech with a casual air - "all I ask for... is your soul."

"My soul?" -she repeated faintly.

"Let me devour your soul" - he said in his seductive tone - "I promise you that all this pain and hollowness you feel right now will not follow you to the grave. I will keep you forever safe; away from grief, sickness, sadness and all suffering."

"You appear to offer me Heaven" - said the girl.

"That place I do not care for. All I offer is the safe haven within me. You don't have to pray for mercy to a cruel God who just took away both your parents. You don't have to suffer and follow a long list of burdening rules to have a slim chance to enter heaven. You don't have to risk falling into hell. Let me have your soul and I promise eternal rest. No more, no less."

"You still seem to offer too much." - she replied, unsure.

"Your soul is enough to me." - he said gallantly - "I seek no other pleasure on this earth. This deal will benefit us both, don't you think?"

She was silent for a while. He waited patiently. The seconds stretched into minutes.

She was lost in her thoughts. The importance of her decision overwhelming her.

He walked closer to her and his soft steps on the richly carpeted floor made her turn her eyes back to him. He stood before her and took off his glasses. His amber gaze softened and he smiled slightly. If she didn't think of him as death, she could have sworn he was an angel. Without his glasses, he was all the more attractive.

"I do not wish to pressure you, my lady" - he said - "but you must give me an answer."

The turbulent feelings within betrayed her self control and some new tears ran hot down her cheeks.

He cocked his head, changing his expression to concern and lifted his gloved hand to delicately wipe away her stray tears with the back of his fingers. His touch was so gentle that it was like feeling a soft breeze on her face. Something inside her stirred, moved aside the pain and stung her heart more powerfully than the thought of death. That very moment she knew she wanted no more than those amber eyes looking at her forever.

"I believe you are too afraid" - he said seeing her speechless. He looked aside, taking his hand away from her face and put on his glasses again. He stepped away and looked at her one more time before turning around and walking away.

"I shall be going now. Goodbye." - he said as he put his hand on the brass handle to open the heavy oak doors of the parlor.

"Wait!" - she exclaimed.

"Hn?" - he half turned and was surprised to see her rush up to him and cling to his arm.

"Don't go!" - she pleaded - "make all this pain go away! take me, dear Death!"

He looked down at her. She barely reached his shoulder. She looked up at his serious face and blushed prettily, slowly letting go of his arm and stepping away.

"I'm deeply sorry for my outburst, Monsieur Death." - she apologized.

He turned to face her and gallantly soothed her - "There is nothing to apologize for, my Lady. But I must tell you, I am not a Grim Reaper or any personification of Death."

"Who are you then, if I may ask?" - she questioned.

"Ah, I apologize for the late introduction. I am a demon." - was the simple, soft, carefree reply that came from his lips as he looked intently at her.

But he was disconcerted now that he looked into her silvery orbs. There was a distinct glow in them, behind all her pain and hopelessness. But he couldn't pin down what was different from her gaze just a few minutes ago. Resignation? Was she in shock? Was her grief so great that she became numb? She seemed not to fear him anymore. It was strange.

"Will you make my pain go away?" - she asked.

"Yes." - he replied softly.

"Will you always be with me?" - she asked again.

"I will never leave you." - he replied softer yet, like one that slowly melts his words in the heat of passion to make them sweeter to the lover's ears.

"Then, take me." - she said closing her eyes - "end me. Take my soul and send me into eternal rest."


	3. Bearing the mark of a demon

When his voice came again, she heard it from behind her. She never heard or felt him move.

"I want you to be sure. This contract is unbreakable." - he whispered in her ear.

"I agree." - was her short response.

"I have to put my mark on you." - he told her.

She could feel his breath on her ear and that was making electricity run down her back. She had never felt something like that before.

"Do it." - she replied bravely.

"It is a pity, thought." - he replied pensively - "to mark such a smooth, young, soft skin. Nevertheless, it will be an honor if you bear my mark on your porcelain doll-like body."

Those words almost made her melt. She hesitated, though, for she didn't know what he intended to do to her to mark her or what exactly was his mark. On the other hand, there was something about him that made her want to put herself completely in his hands. She felt she could trust him with her life. Him, a complete stranger... a demon.

"Will it hurt?" - she dared ask.

"Maybe a little." - came the frank reply. He straightened up, but still stood behind her - "depends on where I mark you."

"Where will you mark me?" - she asked again.

"The closest to the eyes, the better." - he replied.

She put her hands over her cheeks. She was pretty and she knew it. She didn't want to have a mark on her face, specially when she didn't know what was it or how big.

"I will definitely won't put it on your face" - he told her, knowing what she was thinking - "You are very pretty. I wouldn't ruin your beauty."

She felt flattered. Many men before had told her how pretty she was; but coming from him made her feel specially nice.

"Hmmm... maybe right behind your ear, so your hair would conceal it..." - he said thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't be able to wear my hair up!" - she replied immediately. Then she felt silly about it - "I'm sorry... I understand that is not important.."

"It is to me if it is for you" - he said gallantly - "besides, I want my mark to be concealed from prying eyes. It is not for the world to see but for you and me alone."

That sounded so intimate that she felt her cheeks burning again.

"You may choose," - he continued - "I can mark you in the back of your neck or..." - he made a pause and lowered his voice - "right above your breast, over the heart."

She was glad he was standing behind her and didn't see her face, because she was sure she had turned as red as a beet.

"T-the back of m-my n-neck!" she stammered.

"Ah, very well." - he said with a tinge of disappointment - "Now, about the terms of our contract..." - he continued in a more business-like tone - "You will fall to the same sickness that took your mother away. It is in you already..."

She turned around to face him when he said this.

"How do you know?" - she asked, wide-eyed.

"I can smell it in you." - was his reply.

She crossed her arms over her chest, recoiling from him.

"Oh, no! My Lady, I didn't mean to offend you." - he smiled - "My senses are infinitely keener than a human's. But if you allow me to say it, I do find your natural essence quite pleasing."

He enjoyed teasing her. She braced herself tighter and turned red. She averted his gaze and turned her back on him again.

"As I was saying" - he spoke again - "If I let the sickness follow its natural course, you will easily live past your forties; but if I hasten it, you will only be able to endure it a few months. You will be as sick as your mother in her last days. Then, I will have your soul. Do you still want to make the contract?"

"I already decided" - she replied gathering her courage after what the demon said - "I don't want to live in this world anymore. I have nothing left in life."

"You do have half a life ahead of you. You could marry and live leisurely off your parent's fortune." - the demon said.

"My health has never been perfect." - she replied - "I've spent my life indoors. That's why my skin is so pale. Enjoying life is a hassle for me. Then, about marrying..." - she sighed - "I already know the kind of men that are after me. Many came asking my mother for permission to court me but I always managed to convince her to postpone any engagements; although she wanted me to marry as soon as possible. Yet, when I see all my prospects, I can't help but think of them as a bunch of vultures. Carrion birds only waiting to feast on our status and money."

She made a gesture that clearly showed her disgust towards the society everybody expected her to fit into.

He listened to her attentively, amused; but he didn't reply.

"And as for the money... it is worthless. It could not buy my parent's lives." - she finished.

"Interesting" - he replied thoughtful.

"I would be happy to know that I have to endure this absurd world only for a few more months. And..." - she made a pause - "that you will be by my side to the end."

"Without fail." - he reassured her gently.

"Then, let us speculate no more." - she said turning brave again - "let's close this contract."

"Grief is blinding her" - he thought to himself. It was not the first time he saw that happen. Young humans were so susceptible to their own feelings. The world looks so dark and empty and the future seems to close its doors and crash upon them. So naive, so near-sighted. Such easy preys. And her innocence was an added spice. He licked his upper lip as he went to the doors and turned the lock.

"This will take just a moment" - he said, returning and standing before her as he took off his left glove, revealing black fingernails and a star-shaped mark inscribed within a circle. Then he laid his hands gently upon her shoulders. She felt shivers down her arms at the contact.

"When I mark you, I will bite you like a spider and your sickness will fall upon you ten fold."

"Hn." - was her only reply and she bobbed her head.

"Then, if you allow me, my Lady..." - he walked around her and pulled her hair back with both his hands, slightly brushing her skin just below her ears. He pulled it up and she lifted her hands to hold her copper curls up in place while the demon, with expert fingers unbuttoned the back of her high collar dress, exposing her skin down to the middle of her back.

She felt her face burning and her heart was beating in her throat. Then she felt him stop. She waited, but she didn't feel his touch anymore. What was he waiting for? Was he taking his time choosing the perfect spot on her back?

On his part, the demon slowly swept his gaze up and down her exposed skin. He had to admit he was tempted. He had a liking for pale, porcelain skin. He had unbuttoned the dress lower than necessary on purpose and was glad she hadn't protested.

He could hear her heart racing and her blood rushing in her veins. That pleased him deliciously.

"Ah, sweet innocence..." - he breathed before lowering his lips to the back of her neck, pulling apart the dress a little more; enjoying the reactions he was provoking in her. She was feeling for the first time in her life and that could easily make a demon go mad.

He touched her skin slightly with his lips and she trembled. He lifted his eyes and saw the skin along her thin arms fill with goose bumps. He was doing his best effort to restrain himself from going too fast. He wanted to enjoy every second.

She was barely able to keep steady. She had felt him brush her back with his lips. She knew because she could feel his hot, steady breath over her skin and that gave her goose bumps all over. She was also having a hard time pushing back a wild tide of awkward feelings. She felt butterflies in her stomach, electricity ran down her spine and a funny, melting sensation took over her lower belly. She tried to ignore them, to snap out of all of it. But they were so strong that were relentlessly dragging her into a sweet abyss of pleasure. The worst part was that she wanted to go there. She wanted to explore that abyss badly.

But she had just met him! It was a crazy idea and that made her think of herself as a slut. Besides, he was a demon! But whatever he was doing to her was making her brain stop the rational train of thought dead on its tracks. Morals threatened to come to a screeching halt and let her comply to whatever he did to her.

She was a helpless butterfly in the spider's web.

His left arm snaked around her waist and held her in an iron grip, keeping her pinned to his own body. It was scary, but pleasurable at the same time. His body was warm and she could feel his lean but hard arm muscles through the clothing. She thought for a second that not even a hurricane would pry her from his embrace.

She barely managed to bite back a cry when she felt his hot tongue very slowly lick the back of her neck from the middle of her shoulder blades up to the last bone of her spine, leaving a trail of fire.

But it wasn't all pleasure.

Immediately after that, a sharp pain followed. It was like a hot needle boring into her tender skin, right were he had ended the caress. She gasped and cried in pain. She tried to wriggle and let go of her hair. But he had a vice-like grip on her and she felt she was trying to fight a marble statue. She tried to reach behind her neck, but he effortlessly caught both her wrists with his right hand and held them over her head.

He didn't gave away an inch. No matter how much she pushed and fought. The pain was intense for seconds that lasted unnaturally long and then receded quickly.

She breathed unevenly as she relaxed. He let go of her wrists and she was able to bring down her hands, resting them over his left arm, that still held her tightly.

She couldn't avoid digging her fingers into his arm as her knees weakened when she felt him pulling aside her hair with his free hand and licking her skin again.

One... two... three slow times that tortured her deliciously. His hot mouth devouring the remains of the pain he had caused. Then he stopped and waited for her to regain full balance before letting go.

She gave a few steps away from him and slowly drew her right hand up to touch behind her neck. She felt nothing. No pain, no swollen skin, not even wet.

"It is done, my Lady Rebecca." - he said with a sly smile and a satisfied look in his amber gaze.


	4. A Name for the new butler

"Are you all right, mademoiselle!' - came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maids and butlers had heard her cries and were now at the door, trying to open it.

She blushed. She felt as if she had done something bad and had been caught. Would they know? could they imagine what had just happened between the demon and her?

"I'm fine!" - she said aloud, but her voice didn't come out as firmly as she intended.

"Mademoiselle!" - came the loud voice of one of the younger butlers, Frederick - "Please, open the door!"

"I'm fine!" - she called again - "I will be out in a moment!"

There was a pause. "Very well, Mademoiselle." - at last said Frederick from the other side of the door.

Then she realized it was the first time that the demon said her name and remembered she never mentioned it before. He appeared to know a lot of things about her judging by their conversation.

"How do you..." - she didn't finish.

"Know so much about you? That kind of information is ridiculously easy to obtain, my Lady. Besides, remember I am a demon. Knowing things is only natural. Now, if you please, I shall start with my duties as your butler immediately." - he said and bowed deeply before her.

"First, I shall arrange your dress." he came closer to her again. Her brain told her to run away, but she was rooted to the spot and she didn't stop him.

She was silent as he pulled up her hair again and she automatically raised her hand to hold her tresses out of the way while he expertly buttoned back her dress. Then, when she let go of her hair, he quickly arranged the curls neatly with his fingers and straightened her dress, that had become a bit rumpled during her wriggling.

"If you like, I may announce now to the rest of the maids and butlers that their services are no longer needed." - the new butler said.

"Wait!" - she finally reacted - "What do you mean?"

"I can easily keep this mansion by myself." - the new butler said matter-of-factly.

"No." - she replied - "This house would feel so empty. So lonely..." - she braced herself.

"As my Lady wishes." - he replied bowing again.

"If you may excuse me, I will go make all necessary funeral arrangements and then I will supervise dinner."

"Hn." - she said, bobbing her head. Her mind was reeling. She felt suddenly relaxed and safe. For the moment, grief was much less.

He turned around and unlocked the heavy oak doors.

"Wait!" - she called one more time.

He stopped and half turned to her - "Yes, my Lady?"

"What is your name?" - she asked.

"You may call me however you wish, Lady Rebecca." - he replied as if it were the most unimportant matter. He turned and stepped out the parlor, passing among the angry glares of the rest of the household.

After he was gone, they poured into the parlor to check on the girl, but she assured them again she was doing all right and said that the cries they had heard had been sudden outburst of grief for her late mother. Hearing this, they asked no more.

The next three days she was in a daze. All what happened around her seemed to be like one of those waking dreams where everything is so real, yet so distant and you have the feeling deep inside that nothing bad will touch you and all will be fine when you wake up.

The funeral was beautiful. The demon arranged everything as he had said. From the ceremony to the cemetery, down to every little detail. He sent for an open carriage to take the late Lady Candice's body to her final resting place. The carriage was full of lavender flowers and white lilies, which were her favorite flowers. He also personally adorned the carriage with a few weeping willow leaves that, when the carriage rolled, waved softly and seemed to float behind like a cape made by sprites.

He had Rebecca dress in black; with a lot of ruffles and ribbons that far from making her look gloomy, added to her beauty; making her look like a doll. He also had her wear a black bonnet adorned with white lilies, as the ones in the carriage.

All her parent's friends and acquaintances were there. But the girl knew they were only around because of their fortune. All the people commented about the magnificence of the funeral and all the perfection in the details.

Even some of the prospects that had tried to court Rebecca before attended, to see if she would accept them in her moment of weakness.

But the dark butler never left Rebecca's side not even for a second. The prospects scattered away one by one like scared dogs with their tails between their legs after presenting their respects to the girl, under the sharp glare of the mysterious, emotionless butler.

After the burial, when Rebecca and her new butler were riding in the carriage back to the mansion, she confided to him that she had enjoyed seeing the men fly away like vultures scared by a passing carriage.

He seemed to be amused by the comparison.

"I really detest that kind of birds." - he commented - "living from leftovers and rotting flesh because they are incapable of capturing and killing their own prey. Weak feeding on the weaker. I detest crows and ravens specially. They are regarded as magnificent and wise creatures by the human folklore, yet they are nothing more than well-dressed vultures that reek of their own decay."

(At this point, somewhere in Hell, Sebastian sneezed) XD

"I still think crows are beautiful." - she said after he finished - "I like their black, shiny feathers and the mysterious air about them."

"Spiders are far better creatures in nature than crows." - the demon retorted - "They are crafty, intelligent, they create deadly masterpieces that mesmerize the prey until it falls, helpless in their nets. They wait patiently, elegantly hidden, mimetizing themselves with their surroundings until the moment comes. Then, they jump fast as lightning. With their bite, they put their prey mercifully to sleep, encasing it tenderly in a silk cocoon, where it will not feel death coming."

Rebecca giggled softly. He could see their talk was slowly making her come out of her numbness, and he felt comforted by her smile. That had never happened to him and he was enjoying the new sensation.

"May I ask what is it that you find amusing, my Lady? I don't remember saying a joke." - he said, pretending to be hurt.

"I'm sorry. I think they way you talk about spiders is interesting. I never thought about them that way. I mostly regarded them as ugly, hairy creatures. Only bugs that you have to get rid off."

He frowned as she spoke.

"But I have to say that I like watching spiderwebs. They are real masterpieces of nature. So delicate and they shine like diamonds when they're covered in dew. Then a long-legged spider comes down and slides like a dancer across the net. They never get stuck in it and never fall. I always wonder how they do that."

He concealed a pleased smile. But her next comment made him raise an eyebrow.

"But the way you talk about spiders makes me think that you are talking about yourself."

She turned to look at him and he smiled at her. She blushed slightly, but didn't avert her eyes from his intense gaze.

"Am I like a bug in your net?" - she asked, her eyes brighter than before.

He didn't expect that question from her. He showed genuine surprise for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he smiled again, broader this time, visibly pleased.

"You are a rare butterfly with a torn wing that has fallen in my net. This spider cannot bring himself to cover your beauty in a silk cocoon until he finishes admiring the colors and patterns of your wings. Then, when the butterfly asks for mercy, the spider will jump."

She looked at him with her big, round gray eyes. It was a very strange reply, somewhat cruel, but she felt pleased, flattered. It was poetic death, she thought. She looked longingly into his amber eyes.

He knew she understood what he said, but she wasn't recoiling in fear. On the contrary, she seemed to be looking beyond his facade. He felt her touching something within him and he was the one to back away. Something inside him stirred, something he had never felt before. He felt at the brink of something great and dangerous at the same time.

She was disappointed to see him look back at her, his smile dissolving slowly as if he had seen something he didn't like. He had turned away, pushing his glasses up his nose with his fingers, like he often did; and now he pretended to look at some distant point through the window, as the carriage continued its bumpy march.

"It has been three days since we met" - she said to break the uncomfortable silence - "And you still haven't said your name. I really hate referring to you only as 'butler' or 'the new butler'."

"As I told you the first time, Lady Rebecca, you may call me however you wish." - he replied with his now familiar, impassive voice.

"It is not right. You are not an object or a pet that I can just nickname. Please, tell me your name." - she begged.

"Demons never reveal their true names, my Lady. But if you insist, then choose a name for me. So I will always respond promptly to your call."

"You always are there, even when I don't call." - she told him - "sometimes its creepy. How you always come when I think of you."

"Ah, that is because you bear my mark. I always know where you are and will always come to you when summoned. You don't really have to call me by a certain name." - he explained.

"I still feel bad about not knowing your name." - she retorted - "I feel... estranged from you."

He didn't reply. He was thoughtful for a moment and she wrung the ruffles of her dress with nervousness. "Did I make him angry?" - she thought.

He finally turned to her and spoke in a soft, confiding tone as if he were to reveal a secret - "If you so wish to have a name to call me by, it would be my honor if you chose a name of your liking." - he leaned closer to her - "It would be a pleasure hearing a name given by you, calling me to your side."

She was speechless and her cheeks glowed.

He would usually say something like that just to seduce a victim. But this time, he really meant it as he spoke.

She was unable to think anything at that moment. She could only think of how close he was to her and now he was leaning closer.

"I-I... I don't k-know..." - she managed to stammer in a barely audible voice.

"You may decide later." - He said straightening back in his seat and turning away to look out the window to let her relax. He knew perfectly the effect he had on her, like on any of his victims.

They rode in silence for a long while.

"Claude" - she said suddenly.

"What you say, my Lady?" - he turned to her.

"Claude. Can I call you Claude?" - she asked.

"Of course. Any name you like." - he replied passively.

"Do you like it? I won't call you like that if you don't like it." - she insisted.

"Why Claude?" - he asked instead.

"There is a painter, Mother took me to see a beautiful exhibition last year and there were a lot of new painters. I especially liked one that had painted a sunset over the sea. I thought it was beautiful and a little bit sad at the same time. It made me feel calm inside. Mother liked it too and she almost bought it, but the painter was asking too much for it and Mother said that he wasn't a renowned artist, so his painting wasn't worth that much money. I remember the name of the painter was Claude. I liked him, he seemed to be a nice person and his paintings were lovely. His last name was..." - she was thoughtful for a moment - "hmmm... something like Monty? Mountain? Money? no, no... Claude M-m..."

"Monet?" - the demon said.

"Yes!" - she cried joyfully - "do you know him?"

The demon hadn't seen the girl so lively since he met her. He enjoyed looking at the way she smiled and radiated her happiness. Her gray eyes turned to him. He inhaled deeply, taking in her essence, that came mingled with a soft lavender aroma. She shared her mother's preference for lavender. He felt happy himself, and he smiled softly.

"I do not have the pleasure of knowing him" - he said - "but I've heard he's gaining some popularity with his paintings."

"I hope someday we can go to an art exhibition!" - she said, smiling happily. Then, she saddened. - "Oh, I might not be here anymore..."

He frowned. For a moment, her death was not what he most expected.

"Claude..." - he repeated to himself, tasting the name in his mouth. Also trying to take her mind off the grim idea and go back to her lighter mood. - "Do you like that name?"

"It brings back happy memories. That day was one of the few occasions I was able to travel and also the last day Mother and I had together before she fell sick. I think it is a nice name." - she said, lightening up a bit, but still sorrow clouded her doll-like eyes.

"Very well, my Lady." - he intoned - "Then please, call me Claude."

She smiled at him softly, but he could tell her heart brimmed with joy for a instant and her eyes filled with stars. He couldn't help but think that one sincere smile was brighter than a thousand suns; and this one was shining for him alone.

Note from the writer: In case you don't know who Monet is:

Claude Monet, painter. (1840-1926) France.

Or copy and paste this in your browser address bar: /wiki/Claude_Monet


	5. His heart

The carriage stopped before the mansion. Claude got off and walked around to open the door for Lady Rebecca, offering his hand to her for support.

She stepped out a bit unsure, softly putting his small hand on Claude's. She was careful, but placed her foot too close to the edge of the narrow step. When she was about to put her other foot down, she slipped and fell. She screamed and closed her eyes, not having time to react to get a hold of something.

But instead of the hard bump she expected, she felt something strong but soft that halted her fall immediately; as if she had been caught in a security net.

When she turned to look, her eyes met a pair of amber orbs that were fixed on her. She realized she was securely held in Claude's strong arms.

"Thank you, Claude." - she breathed relieved.

The demon nodded and was about to lower her so she cold walk by herself; but she put her arms around his neck and started crying uncontrollably against his broad chest.

The maids and butlers that had come out of the mansion to receive her, approached quickly when they saw what was happening.

One of the butlers walked up to Claude, intending to take Rebecca from him.

Before, the demon wouldn't have had any inconvenient on getting a weeping victim off his persona. He would usually be concerned about not having his always impeccable clothes stained or wet.

But feeling her frail frame shaking as she sobbed, her arms tightening around him and the softness of her hair brushing his cheek gave him a strange feeling. He felt compelled to protect her, to console her. He alone and nobody else.

"I will take Lady Rebecca, monsieur" - said the other butler, Frederick, giving him a look that clearly showed his distrust. They all referred to him only as 'monsieur' because he had not given any name for them to call him by, and that -among other things- contributed to the gossip, distrust and resentment that was already evident against him.

"Claude" - he replied sternly, holding the girl tighter against him; his eyes turning sharp as daggers on Frederick.

"What?" - the butler asked, still trying to get the girl from him.

"My name is Claude." - he repeated firmly and loud enough for all of them to hear - "And I will personally take Lady Rebecca inside the mansion."

Frederick's lips pressed into a thin line, but Claude's glare was too intense. He couldn't do more than shrug and step back, while Claude, with a brisk pace, took the crying girl up the steps and into the mansion.

"Do you want me to take you to your chambers, my Lady?" - he asked softly in the girls ear, when they were away from eavesdroppers.

She nodded against his chest.

She felt him swiftly going up the long stairway to the second floor; as if they were floating. It was such an enjoyable sensation that she imagined being carried among the clouds. But sooner than she would have wished for, she heard a door opening and she lifted her eyes to see the familiar petal pink wallpaper of her bedroom.

She was lowered tenderly on the downy bed and her bonnet was skillfully taken off and deposited on the side table. Then, the tall, dark figure of her demonic servant walked over to close the curtains so she could get some rest. He stood a moment by the broad window, the sunlight making him appear as a shadow with only his glasses shining like mirrors.

"I will send Annette to help you change into something more comfortable." - he told her and walked around the bed towards the door.

"No!" - she called after him with despair in her voice. Looking again at her, she appeared like a broken doll, her eyes red from crying, her smile gone, her face a mask of grief. She was looking at him as if he were the last person in the whole world. Her world.

He couldn't decide if he should go and sit next to her or leave at that moment and be rid of the awkward feeling developing inside him.

"Please, don't go, Claude." - she said in a hushed, broken voice.

Deciding against the command his rational side gave him, he closed the door and walked back to the girl's side, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looked down at her, awaiting her request.

As a demon, he knew how to read perfectly the human's body language and all their micro expressions; so he always knew what they were up to. Although, this girl was so sincere, that it was not necessary for him to do that all the time. She was an open book, without the facades and secret intentions of the high society people.

He did read all her expressions, though. Finding all her emotions and reactions amusing. Now, she looked like she wanted to say something, but was too embarrassed to do so. Considering all her experience on women of all ages and her present distress, he guesses what she wanted.

He sat down next to her, very close and opened a little his arms in a gesture that invited an embrace. He didn't have to say anything; she hugged him, sobbing. He closed his arms around her, softly stroking her soft hair with his hand.

They were like that for a while. Finally she calmed down quieted. But still she kept him in a tight hug that he corresponded. He lowered his head a little, and inhaled her essence. The familiar lavender aroma came mingled with her salty tears and girl-turning-into-woman scent. Her hair smelled clean and had retained some of the freshness of the dewy pine trees from the cemetery. He touched her hair slightly with his lips, enjoying both the silky soft feeling and the smell. He thought of how delicious and sweet would her soul be when the time came to devour it. He wanted to take a bite right then, but he had to mind himself or he would ruin his dinner.

"It is so strong... yet so soft..." - he heard her whisper against his chest.

"What is it, my Lady?" - he said in a hushed voice.

"Your heart." - she said - "Each beat is strong, but its rhythm is calm and soothing. I could fall asleep listening to it, as one listens to an ethereal melody, or a lullaby sung by spirits."

He thought for a moment. Her comparison was somewhat strange, but it pleased him. Nobody had said anything like that to him before. He had cradled nobody to his chest for a moment as long as that one. He had to admit it was quite comforting. He felt nice.

"Would my Lady like to rest for a while?" - he asked, but reluctant to let go.

"Yes, my dear Claude... but only if it is like this..." - she sighed.

He was glad she said so. He shifted his body to allow a more comfortable position for  
>Rebecca and leaned back against the tall bed head, so she could rest on him. She curled up in his arms, resting her head against his heart. He made sure she didn't see him pull one of his gloves off with his teeth and continued stroking slowly her hair with his bare hand.<p>

He rested his head against the bed head and closed his eyes. He felt so at ease, so relaxed. Her steady breathing and soft heart beat where soothing him as well.

He wondered what would the other servants were doing, for he hadn't given instructions to them and also thought about what would happen if any of them found them in that compromising position. But he disregarded all. It was not important at the moment. He could deal with whatever situation that could come up. All that mattered at that moment was Lady Rebecca's wish.


	6. The spark after death

Rebecca woke up in the afternoon. For a moment she wondered if having fallen asleep in Claude's arms had been a dream. She was alone in her room, hugging her pillow. She didn't feel him leaving.

Then she remembered how he had embraced her, letting her rest on him and had patiently waited for her to stop crying and fall asleep over his broad, strong chest. She felt her cheeks burning.

"Oh, my!" - she said to herself - "I hope he doesn't think wrongly about me!"

She hugged her pillow tight and inhaled deeply. She noticed a smell.

"This is Claude's scent..." - she thought. It had not been a dream. She remembered his muscles rippling under his clothes every time he moved his arm to stroke her hair. His body could develop strength beyond human, yet she found his scent quite calming. It came subtly from the warm pillow. Clean smell, he used no cologne. A man's scent. She didn't know why she thought that, but she imagined that a real gentleman should smell like Claude.

She kept the memory of that moment in her heart, feeling joyful among her sadness.

There was a knock on the door.

"Are you awake, mademoiselle?" - Came Annette's muffled voice from the other side of the door - "May I come in?"

"Y-yes, yes..." - Rebecca answered, bolting upright and pushing away the pillow. Annette entered the room, pushing a small cart with tea and a small snack.

"Are you doing better, mademoiselle? I was worried that strange new butler could do something to you."

"Claude? Oh, n-no. No. He would never harm me." - the girl said.

The maid seemed surprised by the reply - "If I may say, mademoiselle, you are very young and innocent. He acts like a well educated man and he's very good-looking; he could take advantage of you. There is something about him that has everybody uneasy. Besides, his services are really not necessary. We always have taken perfect care of this mansion."

Rebecca was thoughtful for a moment. So, they didn't like Claude and the maid was trying to make her get rid of him. She imagined what would be the maid's reaction if she just casually said something like, "Oh, he can't leave. Claude is a demon and I have a pact with him." The maid would probably run out screaming her head off. The girl giggled softly.

"Mademoiselle?" - the maid turned to her, probably thinking the girl was starting to lose her mind.

"I'm sorry, Annette" - she said, smiling at the maid - "I thank you for your concern. But I assure you, there is no need to worry."

"Very well, mademoiselle. And, about that new butler..."

"I wish him to stay." - Rebecca said firmly.

The maid made a face, but kept silent. She knew it would be out of place to press the matter further. Her mistress had spoken in quite a definitive tone.

After the snack, Annette helped her put on some more comfortable clothes. She now wore a plain short sleeve black dress with only a black bow behind her waist and a smaller one on her chest. She decided she wanted to go to the gardens and take some fresh air.

As she sat there, she send for her crocheting basket. Her mother was teaching her to make some patterns and she wanted to keep her hands busy and her mind off the sad memories.

She took out a half finished handkerchief she was edging. Her mind drifted towards Claude. She wondered if he would like her to make something for him. Another handkerchief? Maybe she could embroider his name on it too. She thought about his glowing amber eyes, his handsome face and regal air. How he always looked so intently at her.

"I'm afraid you will need to go back two loops." - she heard a deep male voice say to her.

"Claude!" - she exclaimed and blushed - "You startled me!"

She clearly understood that he was aware whenever she was thinking of him. But now she wondered if he knew what she was thinking about.

"I apologize, Lady Rebecca." - he smiled - "I had the feeling that you needed me".

"I didn't mean to summon you." - she admitted - "I was just... I wanted to..." - she hesitated.

He was inwardly pleased as he saw her cheeks turning red and smiled slightly. He decided to save her from her speechlessness and said,

"I know something about crocheting. I could offer my help if you please."

"Really?" - she asked in surprise - "You know how to crochet?"

He smiled proudly -she noticed that- and replied.

"Of course, my Lady. You thought that because I am a man I wouldn't know how to crochet? I am not a human and I am not held back by the categories that humans encase certain activities in."

"I see... well, I should have known! And, you do relate yourself to spiders. It is only in your nature, I assume. I am afraid you will find my work very poor."

"On the contrary." - he came closer, pushing his glasses back in his usual manner and inspecting the half finished handkerchief in her hands - "I find your stitches graceful and delicate. Your small hands are perfect for this kind of work."

"Thank you, Claude" - she shrugged in her seat, feeling joy bubbling inside her. She lowered her head, letting her curls fall to conceal her glowing face.

"You were just a bit distracted" - he continued - "just undo the last two loops, see? you chained four loops instead of six and you didn't make the slip stitch to finish the picot ."

"Yes, I see" - she slowly undid the chain, aware of his gaze fixed on her hands. She carefully began again, chaining six loops and adding the slip stitch in the third chain.

"Wonderful" - he complimented.

She continued crocheting for a while, feeling his eyes on her all the time. She was very nervous, but she gathered her courage and asked.

"Claude..."

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Would you like me to crochet something for you?"

Silence.

She stopped her hook and looked at the demon.

He had an unreadable expression on his face, half surprised, half... she didn't know.

"I am not so important as to deserve a gift made from your hands." - he finally replied in a smooth tone.

"Oh... I see..." - she said turning away. She slowly continued moving the hook, chaining the loops around the white handkerchief.

He knew she felt rejected. But it was the first time somebody had offered him a gift. Everybody had just asked for favors and given orders. Nobody had treated him like... a friend, maybe? He was unsure about accepting, but he didn't want to upset Rebecca.

"I did not mean I would not like it, my Lady. I just believe that a gift from your delicate hands would be too precious to waste on a mere butler." - he added gallantly. He gazed into her dove gray eyes as they were turned to him full of light, accompanied by that smile that was just for him. She radiated joy and warmth capable of touching the fibers within him.

"Claude! Don't say that! I will by very happy to make one for you!" - she exclaimed - "I will embroider your name on it too, but... Claude is not your real name..."

"It is the name you gave me." - he replied smiling softly - "It would make it all the more special, for it would hold a special meaning. A memory of the precious moments I spent at your service, as Claude."

He could see her soul ignite like fireworks through her eyes. He anticipated the delicious feast he would eventually enjoy. But for a moment, part of him was reluctant of ending the time he had with her. Every moment felt special, delicious in its own way. And devouring her soul would end all that. Of course he would relish in the pleasure; but the opportunity for the next moment would be gone forever.

They looked at each other for a long moment. She was about to say something, but a sudden thump made both of them turn. A little bird had flown straight against the windows of the mansion and was now lying on the floor, completely still.

"Oh, dear!" - Rebecca gasped. Tossing her work into the crocheting basket, she rushed to the bird, followed closely by Claude. She knelt and tenderly picked up the little bird, cradling him carefully in her hands.

She stood up and turned to Claude. - "Oh, poor little thing... what can we do?"

He couldn't avoid taking in her features. Even in a frown, she was pretty. Her emotions ran deep, she reacted so intently to everything, she was so... alive. He felt a certain connection to her, beyond the bond of their contract. He enjoyed taking in all her emotions, as if he could feel and breathe life through her.

Then he looked down at the bird in her hands and without thinking lifted his own hands up, cradling Rebecca's small hands in his own.

"Poor little sparrow... you hit yourself too hard..." - Rebecca cooed, carefully caressing the tiny bird's wing - "come on... you will be all right..."

"It's a Warbler, not a Sparrow." - Claude corrected, pushing his glasses back in place.

Rebecca looked at him a bit confused.

"A Zitting Cisticola to be precise" - Claude said - "but I am afraid that it is..." He didn't finish his sentence. He and Rebecca turned their attention back to the bird.

The little creature moved a little, he opened his beak slowly and repeatedly, as if he couldn't breathe.

"Claude! what is happening?" - she asked worriedly. She carefully caressed the creature's head.

Claude didn't reply. He was silent as he felt Rebecca in some strange way, or, better said, felt both the bird and Rebecca feeling the bird. The girl gasped.

The little Warbler arched its back for a second, attempted to stretch its wings and then relaxed, laying completely still, feet up.

Rebecca watched the bird wide eyed and slowly caressed his puffy white little chest, very delicately with her finger. The little bird didn't move anymore.

"Claude... I... I saw it..." - Rebecca said in a hushed voice - "I saw it in my mind... how the little sparrow's life ended. It was like a tiny light, a spark... it was there and then... it just faded..."

Claude looked at Rebecca, his eyes glowed. She had felt the bird's vital energy abandoning the body. It was very unusual for a human to be able to feel that kind of things. He remained silent.

"Claude..." - her hushed voice came again as she turned her gaze to him - "we have to bury him"

The demon butler didn't say word, just nodded. He kept one hand under the girl's cupped ones and softly laid his other hand on the girl's back. They walked together down the stairs to the garden. She kept looking at the little dead bird.

They knelt down before a white rose bush and he dug a small hole in the base, where the girl tenderly deposited the dead bird. Then they both covered it back.

"Please, say something, Claude." - she told him before they got up.

"It is only a bird." - he replied - "it didn't even know it was dying. There is no after life for it."

"I felt him!" - she retorted - "I saw him die and... and... I felt as if a very little part of me had died with him! I know it sounds strange... but I felt it. And... soon I will be dead too."

He was surprised by the fact that she could be so sensitive to the things of the subtle world, such as the vital force of a bird and relate to it. 'She knows Death is around her', he thought.

"Very well, my Lady Rebecca." - he replied. Then, he intoned softly and ceremoniously:

"We deliver this empty shell back to the earth, where it belongs. May its little spirit that has just been freed, sing forever happily in the vast, eternal sky."

"He will suffer no more the cold and loneliness" - Rebecca whispered.

Claude stood up and removed his soiled gloves to help the girl stand up as well.

"That was beautiful, Claude" - she said, her hands still in his.

"Thank you, my Lady." - the butler replied.

"When I die... that spark of light... is that what you will consume? Do human souls shine like that too?"

Claude had never been asked that before. He was taken aback by her question and tried to elaborate a proper response. But he had no time.

Suddenly, just as she finished speaking, she started coughing. Claude held her, putting an arm around her as she bent forward, unable to stop. She covered her mouth with both hands.

That moment, all his abilities as a demon were useless and he knew it. He couldn't do anything for her and that made him angry; although he knew he was responsible for her sickness. Her end had started.

When she was finally able to stop coughing, she looked at her hands in dismay. They were smeared with blood. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I wish I was like that bird" - she cried - "At least he didn't know he was dying...!"

Claude picked up Rebecca in his arms and held her tight.

"Claude, I'm scared." - she whimpered as she put her arms around his neck, making fists with her hands so she wouldn't stain his clothes with her blood.

"I am here, my Lady. You need not be afraid. I will remain by your side to the very end and beyond."

She rested her head on his shoulder and he quickly carried her back inside the mansion.


End file.
